<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>when i close my eyes by prithivas</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560289">when i close my eyes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/prithivas/pseuds/prithivas'>prithivas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:09:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560289</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/prithivas/pseuds/prithivas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They had gone through their own struggles, and there was no way to compare or contrast the way they both lived. And yet despite their differences, Dorothea felt like this man, who had been fucked over by the world just as her, could maybe come close to understanding her if he really wanted.</p><p>(Dorothea and Sylvain have a final conversation.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dorothea Arnault &amp; Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>when i close my eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dorothea,” someone gently nudged her, causing her to open her eyes slowly.</p><p>“Sylvain?”</p><p>He gave her a tired smile. “Good morning.”</p><p>It was pitch-black around them, not a single thing in sight. There was no sound, and their words slowly echoed around them, as if they were caught in a box. </p><p>She looked around for a little bit. “Where are we?”</p><p>“No idea,” he sighed, “maybe we’re in hell.”</p><p>Dorothea could not move an inch - it was like she was being held down by heavy, invisible chains. Even simply opening her mouth caused her an unnecessary amount of pain. She could feel <em> something </em>tugging at her sleeves, and it was almost familiar.</p><p>Faintly, it felt like dread, terror, the unknown.</p><p>“Are we dead?”</p><p>As her words echoed in the dark, she tried to take deeper breaths. It was not working.</p><p>“No idea,” he repeated his answer. It was almost like he was also curious to find out. Neither of them spoke a single word for a while after that.</p><p>They were sitting next to each other, which was unusual for both. Dorothea could feel the weight of Sylvain on her as she was also leaning on his shoulder. It was a fragile position; if one of them were to move, the other would fall.</p><p>Maybe that was the least unusual part about it.</p><p>She did not remember how she’d ended up here: the few things she could fetch from her memory were people screaming in agony, an entire field set on fire, fighting and fighting and -</p><p>“I’m tired,” she eventually spoke.</p><p>“Me too…” He didn’t say anything else until Dorothea could feel him shift slightly. “Want me to tell you a story?”</p><p>Sylvain sounded just as tired as she felt: his speech was slurred, his voice was raspy, and he sounded so resigned, so small.</p><p>“No,” she giggled, or tried to - her body didn’t seem to be listening to her. “I don’t like stories. Tell me something real instead.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>She thought about it for a moment, before eventually asking, “How are you, Sylvain?”</p><p>There was no immediate answer. If she were to focus then, in the silence, maybe she could have heard the rain pouring down on them.</p><p>“Would you believe me if I said I was okay?”</p><p>“Not at all.”</p><p>He huffed at that - she hoped it was the equivalent of a laugh. “I’m… humoured.”</p><p>“How so?” she asked curiously. Her voice was getting lower every second.</p><p>“I’ve always thought about the way I would die,” he stated flatly, then sighed. “I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”</p><p>Maybe she was all alone, waiting for death to claim her, lying on the cold hard ground. Maybe the others had left her already, and Sylvain wasn’t here. Could it be that she was hallucinating? Had she unintentionally sought his company?</p><p>They had gone through their own struggles, and there was no way to compare or contrast the way they both lived. And yet despite their differences, Dorothea felt like this man, who had been fucked over by the world just as her, could maybe come close to understanding her if he really wanted.</p><p>But it did not matter if they knew each other anymore: they had studied together, they had fought together, and now they would die together.</p><p>Was Sylvain already dead?</p><p>“Sylvain.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>She almost asked him, but opted out of it. “I wonder what time it is,” she ended up saying.</p><p>“Time doesn’t equal much when you know that you’re running out of it,” he gave her another smile. “Does it now, ‘Thea?”</p><p>“Guess not,” she mumbled. It was getting harder and harder to speak. “I’m dying.”</p><p>Sylvain’s smile faded. “You… You are.”</p><p>“I never thought you would be there when I died.” She huffed quietly. “I never thought <em> anyone </em> would be there when I died. In the streets, like the filthy kid I was. I am.”</p><p>Sylvain hummed. “And how is… this?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I wish I knew.”</p><p>Her eyelids were getting heavier each second -  she could not keep them open anymore. “If the goddess is real,” she said, as her eyes closed, “do you think she would have mercy on us?”</p><p>She could not feel the rain pouring down on her anymore.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he admitted, for the last time. “Why don’t we find the answer… together?”</p><p>The world got quieter, until all she could hear was her slowing heartbeat.</p><p>“Yeah,” she whispered, or she thought she did - maybe no one had heard her. Maybe she had already passed, without even realising it herself. “Yeah, let’s.”</p><p>She took a final, shaky breath.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it’s three am and i could not sleep. (<a href="https://twitter.com/edlethea">twitter</a>)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>